I lived at Lena Spencer's from October 75 to Feb or March of 76 -- Logan was friends with Lena. I rmember he invited her (and I guess I tagged along) to a dinner party for a couple who had just gotten married. I can't remember their names now. Logan was a really good cook -- a fancy cook. I put something on my plate that I thought was a creamed onion, and then when I put it in my mouth . . . it was kinda rubbery and funny tasting . . . I didn't know anybody and I was in awe of Logan, and I heard somebody talk about the oysters he had cooked -- it was an oyster in my mouth and I didn't know what to do. It was like a squeezy rubber ball. I kept chewing and there was one moment where I wasn't sure which direction it was going to go -- down my throat or out my mouth. But this was a fancy dinner and it took all my self control to swallow it and not gag.

To this day I can't even look at an oyster without remembering how that felt -- am I going to swallow this or I am about to ruin this newlywed couple's dinner party thrown by Logan English. Isn't it crazy the stuff you remember? By the time I knew him he was well into the bottle, and a lot of people shook their heads at what they thought was the career he threw away. He was a sweet, sad guy. With a beautiful voice.